It was just as he remembered them with their heads resting upon each other, his outstretched fingers patting her hair as blood spilled onto the floor into a sticky red pool. He met the same fate in a moment’s time with a slash to the jugular.

When he began sculpting, he arranged them in this exact positioning, although he fought the temptation to try a more pleasing design. They at least had earned this much and deserved the dignity of the memory of their death together.

His art required precision, carving the details into his chosen subjects for eternity.

Gruesome. That’s not modelling from life, but from death. I liked it. I wondered though whether the use of ‘he’ and ‘his’ for the sculptor and one of the victims confused things a little bit? “It was just as he remembered them with their heads resting upon each other, his outstretched fingers…” but maybe it was just me.

Thanks, Claire. With two characters being “he,” you’re probably right. Maybe I chould have named the main character. Maybe that would help. I appreciate your feedback. Thanks! I really love your sculpture, too. It didn’t really make me of death. It’s really quite beautiful.

Yikes… I’ve quit… for now.. I’ve really got to figure out where to do this (one of the few things that bothers me about living in an apartment is bothering everyone else). I FINALLY get started and it’s SO LOUD!!! *sigh*
🙂

Nah…you do what you can, Rich! I wouldn’t worry about it. I know people will still love hearing from you. My theory is there no such thing as being late on the blog. That’s truly what I feel. So, there.